The Daily Verse

I
Days crawl. Winter is coming to its fag end, and Spring is at the threshold
waiting to make an entrance. The Jacaranda tree shows the first signs,
its foliage turning a buttery yellow, shedding all inhibitions and ready to
let go.

II
Here at home, we’ve had our share of winter – melt downs, a sharp coldness
that pierces the heart and a thin layer of ice that covers layers of turbulence
built up over years of being here, alone, away from home. The ice gave way
yesterday. We fell in and risked drowning as we flailed our arms
in a desperate attempt to survive.

III
When we gave up pretending that we were okay, when we reached out
to each other, we hauled ourselves up, still shivering, drained by the effort.
We lay in silence in the dark of the night, warm tears rolling down
our still cold cheeks until sleep came to us.

IV
When we woke up, we saw the spring sun sliding in through the space
between the door and the floor; you snuggled, burying your little head
in my chest and I put my arm over your still delicate frame. And in that
moment, I knew you’d be okay; you made it through another winter
in foreign soils. Unknown to you, your roots had been silently
gaining ground.

VI
Like the Jacaranda trees that unabashedly proclaim their existence,
bare branches brimming with bright mauve blossoms against the blue
Spring sky; carpeting the brown earth with lavender drops in honour of
Summer, making heads turn in awe, I wish you do, too. May these trees
from our homeland remind you to exist, not as a whisper on this land
but to be bold and beautiful and hold your head high.